


A.D. in Eden

by AmazonX



Category: The X-Files
Genre: AU, Dom/sub, M/M, Post Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-20
Updated: 2013-10-20
Packaged: 2017-12-30 00:33:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1011907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmazonX/pseuds/AmazonX
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Walter takes a vacation and gets more than he bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A.D. in Eden

**Author's Note:**

> This came to me as a flash just before I fell asleep. I wasn’t THAT tired that I would drop right off, and wanted to get up and write this out, before I forgot. When I woke up the next day, I had forgotten, and was pissed, but an idea like this doesn’t stay forgotten for long. I remembered, and here it is! It's loosely based on "Exit to Eden". I've read the book and saw the movie, but when I say loose, I mean loosely based. I'm using some basic ideas from the film, but most of it is mine. Thank you for the title Lorelei!

*-*-*-*   
DELTA AIRLINES   
FIRST CLASS   
SOMEWHERE OVER THE ATLANTIC

I settled back in my chair, resting my head. I was never going to work out all the kinks in my neck and back. It was just as well; I was too exhausted for any of the games they play on the island. I had needed a vacation for about nine years.

That was about how long Mulder and Scully had been making my life hell, separately and collectively. I went through hell for them and would again, but with them in hiding in an undisclosed area thanks to Marita Covarrubias, along with the Gunmen, I could finally rest. I’d needed a vacation for a long time.

I just wanted to go to the island and rest. They told me my companion request would be filled easily. I’d never considered something like that before, but it was a recommendation from Frohike's girlfriend, my travel agent. He’d served in ‘Nam a lot earlier than I had. He knew the things people did in the jungle to get a little comfort. I took that taste home with me.

Sharon knew. We were passionate at first, but she was so delicate. I was always afraid of hurting her. With a man, you can be a little rougher, grab and pinch and bite. I wasn’t worried about leaving marks on a man. Sharon would get so angry when I would be aggressive. I didn't blame her. She had a hard time explaining the hand prints on her hips when she changed in the locker room at the gym.

I missed her, every day a little more. I wished I had been better to her and not so selfish. My job, my work, my feelings, my cases, my insecurities, my sexual proclivities...and all I did was waste her love.

I wouldn’t beat myself up about that. I was done with it. She forgave me the night she died, when she told me to save that young woman's life. It's why I‘d spent a fortune on flowers for her grave.

I was met at the dock by a gold-clad woman with long blonde hair and a golden clipboard. "I'm Citizen Amy and I'm here to help your dreams come true. Mr. Skinner, your cabana is waiting for you, and your slave will meet you there shortly. Until then, Rusty will lead the way with your luggage."

And Rusty he was. The man was as tall as me, but his shock of curly hair was bright dark red. His gleaming muscles were as pink and pale as his Irish heritage would prescribe. His piercing blue eyes, reminiscent of Agent Scully, perused me as I walked around him.

“Yes, Rusty will do the job nicely, Amy, thank you.”

I followed him to my bungalow, set apart from the resort proper. I paid extra for that, to have a little stretch of beach to myself - trees with a hammock, something a little more private. Nude swimming in the ocean would be a treat. I had to sign the “No Harm” contract for my slave that week. If he didn’t want to do something, he didn’t have to.

Yes, I said he. I asked for a man. I wanted someone strong, pretty, with light eyes and dark hair. Someone who could converse with ease about most any subject, but could also use his mouth for more...prurient matters.

The room was huge. Essentially, it was just a large room, with a sitting area, a table for meals, stereo but no television, and a massive four-post bed. It was ornately outfitted with hidden rings for restraints. By hidden, I mean they were seamlessly designed in the decor of the bed. I knew from the large brochure they sent me that all the requests I made for “aids” would be stored in the bedside table drawers. I wasn’t very imaginative, asking for a paddle, a small flogger, a light crop and fur cuffs. Of course, there was an assortment of condoms and lubricant. That was non-negotiable. All guests had to submit to pre-booking health examination, including a battery of STD screening. I submitted without concern. It pleased me that they cared for their staff this way, and their clientele.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, Master?” Rusty asked me, as he placed my bags gently beside the chest of drawers.

“Sure, you can unpack for me. Hand me my shaving kit, though? I’d like a shower. Thank you.”

“Can I bathe you, Master?” he asked. Oh, he really wanted to make an impression, didn’t he?

“Thank you, no, Rusty. Please, just unpack for me and wait for my requested slave. Ask him to kneel in presentation for me when I’m finished in here.”

“Yes, Master. Thank you, Master.”

I went into the massive bathroom, with its sunken Jacuzzi tub and separate shower, big enough for two. There was an enema nozzle on the showerhead extension, as I requested. I liked my boys to be clean. Yes, I called them boys, even though the last man I made love to was well over thirty. I always chose men who look young. I like that. But make no mistake, I wanted a man.

I stood under the four-headed shower as the water cascaded over me and just luxuriated in the decadence of a vacation that cost as much as a down payment for a house. All I could think about was the cool, nubile young body that was waiting for me, kneeling on the carpet, hands behind his back, knees spread, chest thrust out. Oh, God, I wanted to taste flesh again. I wanted someone to hold me Someone I could kiss and fuck. I made sure to request someone who enjoyed kissing. This was going to mean something for me.

I stepped out, drying myself with one of the large towels on the warming rack. That day was cool out, but the weather was supposed to get significantly warmer in the days to come.

I brushed my teeth and ran my electric razor over my face quickly, making sure I was smooth. After dragging my comb through the remaining fringe of hair that hadn’t fallen out, or been pulled out, I decided to go out and see if the door opening and closing was my slave.

I walked out, towel wrapped around my waist, and stopped cold in my tracks.

Kneeling on my floor, golden tanned skin oiled to perfection, gold g-string pulled tight to show off his assets, knees open and inviting, was a ghost. “You can’t be real,” I said. I don’t remember getting my breath back.

“But I am,” the ghost said, bringing his gaze up from the beige carpet.

“I killed you,” I said more firmly, going to him, stopping within a foot from where he knelt.

“And yet, I breathe. Ironic, isn’t it?” He brought one hand up to indicate the question of irony. It was his left hand. The one that had been removed so brutally so many years ago. I was flabbergasted.

“How...where did that arm come from? How are you here? I shot you myself!” I needed to sit. I needed to throw up. I needed a drink.

“Ask Jeremiah Smith,” was all he said. And it clicked into place. Of course, Krycek had always had a hand in the resistance, hating the Smoking Man’s guts ever since he’d tried to kill Krycek. It would make sense that Jeremiah Smith would bring Krycek back. But...

“Why didn’t Jeremiah Smith heal Mulder?” I demanded. “We went through the funeral, everything! Why you and not Mulder?”

“Master, wouldn’t you prefer to get dressed before we start the long and arduous task of answering all of your questions?” I looked down and saw that my towel had fallen, and the cool, ocean breeze was doing...things to my anatomy. I smirked. I was glad to be a grower. Served this little bastard right to get the crap shocked out of him.

"No, I think that it's time to start, don't you? Yes, I think we should get started." I smiled when I saw Krycek swallow. I went to the bedside table and sat on the bed as I opened the drawer. I took out the paddle and looked it over. Oh, this looked promising. When I was in college, all the pledges were paddled. But that was a long, engraved board. This was a round, leather-covered paddle, larger than my whole hand in circumference. I wanted him crying when I was done with him. I wanted his ass so red, it would stop traffic if I hung him from a pole.

I stood from the bed and looked around the room. “Ah, where to put you, where to put you,” I mused out loud. Let him sweat it out.

The only problem was, he wasn’t sweating. He seemed as calm as ever. That annoyed me. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a large boxy easy chair - rather short, but seemingly perfect to lay some one over to spank while standing. They had put me in the correct room.

“Lie face down over that chair, ass in the air. We’re going to start this penance right here and now. When I’m done warming you up, I’ll ask you a few more questions. Let’s see if this paddle will give your tongue the proper amount of respect for me.”

“Master, my tongue is ready to respect and worship you any time you please,” he retorted, which didn’t soothe me as it should have. I just waited until he rose and walked to the squat chair, covered in what looked like woven wool. Fabric burns wouldn’t begin to explain the marks he’d have on his chest from all the squirming he’d do.

Krycek draped himself over the chair, positioning his ass in the air. It was perfect, his pert, round ass poking up. I stood behind him, not touching him, not moving. I just watched as the muscles in Krycek's back contracted in waves. Was he excited? Scared? What the hell was he doing here anyway?

I brought the paddle down with all the strength in my arm. The crack reverberated off the walls, sounding like a gunshot. Krycek's ass clenched tight. I watched as the pain roiled through him. He gave a small shudder and then let all his muscles go. What really interested me was he made no sound. Not a yelp, not a grunt, nothing. He took it like a man, as my father would say. My father would kill me if he knew what I was doing...actually, he would probably buy me a beer if he knew. My father was a dog at heart, even though my mother had him wrapped around her finger.

I brought the paddle down again, just as hard. The rowing machine I put in my exercise room was paying off. Again and again, I smacked the leather surface onto the golden skin of my nemesis, making it pink, then red, then maroon. He tensed many times, but never once uttered a word. I did get a hiss. That would have to do.

“So, have you had enough?” I asked.

“If my Master believes so.” That sent steam through my ears.

“What does that mean!” I demanded.

“Whatever my Master wants it to mean.”

That just pissed me off more. I grabbed a handful of hair and pulled him up off the chair. “Your attitude will get you into trouble, Krycek. Watch your mouth.”

“Yes, Master.”

He was so quiet, so submissive, I was drunk with power. I just had to keep in mind not to hurt him. I read the book they sent me on safe play. And I broke the first rule, always ask your slave’s safe word. I did start to feel regret, but not much.

“You have a safe word, Krycek?”

“I...yes, Master. Smirnoff, Master. My safe word is Smirnoff.”

“OK, fine. I signed the no injury contract, so...rest assured, I’ll keep my word and not draw blood. No broken bones. But I will make that ass so tender, you won’t sit for days.”

He just nodded, and dipped his head, chin touching his chest. Now, how the hell was I supposed to be an iron-fisted Master with him looking so pitiful and pathetic? I wanted to feel bad for him, but that was the same man that held a gun on Mulder. I had to...well, I obviously didn’t kill him. Well, I did. I murdered him. Didn’t I? No, he was going to kill Mulder, so I had to save a fellow officer. I had to.

He stood there and waited. I didn’t know what to do next. I checked the ornate clock on the wall and it was barely lunch time. I could have paraded my red-assed prize at the luncheon, but I wanted him all to myself.

I went to the phone and ordered us lunch; sumptuous steaks, roasted potatoes, steamed veggies and for dessert, German Chocolate Cake, my favorite. As I waited, I had time to dress in a tan linen shirt and dark khaki linen pants. Bare feet are what I prefer when I’m not working. Lunch arrived just as I was finished dressing. Mine was served on a beautiful setting of bone-colored china and heavy flatware. Krycek’s was served in a dog bowl, just as I’d requested. There was even a special smaller dog bowl just for his cake. Perfect.

"Eat up, Krycek. Don't want your steak to get cold, do you?" I sat at the table with my meal and began digging in. I didn't give Krycek specific instructions on how to eat, so he just used his hands to pick at the food. He looked pathetic. I loved it.

When he was finished, I let him eat the cake right away, which he apparently loved. I'd have to remember that. I'd get cake, he'd get fruit. It was perfect. I would get some back for Bill Mulder, for Melissa Scully and for me. For the hours I spent in excruciating pain. For the doctor who had to pronounce me dead, again. For Dana Scully, who had to hold my hand and comfort me, when I couldn't do the same for her.

"I think I'd like a little ocean air. Yes, that sounds good." I went to the toy drawer and pulled out something I didn't ask for, but was pleased was in there, a collar and leash. "Come here, boy, let me make sure you're safe."

He crawled to me and knelt, head down. I fastened the collar around his neck and smiled. "You can walk, but stay before me. I want to watch that red ass go."

He looked up at me, green eyes going puppy dog, and it was something to behold. Alex Krycek, relegated to pet - a thing to be looked at. This promised to be a magical vacation.

We walked out of the bungalow, down the beach and up the path towards the main building of the resort. There were plenty of Masters and Mistresses leading their slaves on leashes. Some had their boy or girls in their laps, sitting and preening, being petted as they talked. Some had their toys sitting at their feet on the floor, feeding them by hand. What a rush of power.

I walked to a chair and sat, pulling Krycek to heel beside me. "Now, you sit there and be good. I'll get you a bowl of water."

He looked up at me, and for a second, I thought I saw sadness, or fear. I didn't think much of it at the time. Krycek was playing a part, like he always did. Just playing at being my slave. Nothing more, nothing less. He'd probably done it for many a man or woman living on this island. I sat and wondered how long he'd been there. How long he'd been a whore to others...then I stopped thinking that way. This is what *I* wanted. I wanted to come to the island, find a body, spank it and fuck it. This was my choice. And I shouldn't denigrate Krycek for the same choice.

After a few moments, I knew I needed a drink. "Krycek, go get me a scotch and water." He nodded and left to get me my drink. When he came back, he carried it on a tray. The scotch was excellent, single malt, more than twelve years old. It was perfectly delicious.

I turned to him and said, "Get me another. This was good."

"Master...I...they won't give you more than that."

"Why the hell not? It's my money. Just go get me another and then we'll take a walk before dinner."

He nodded and went for another scotch. Why the hell wouldn't they serve me more? I guess they don't want people slobbering around before dinner. That was fine with me. When he came back, I drank the second and noticed the sun was setting and had just shone down through the window on me.

"Are there any rules against me snoozing here in this chair before dinner?" I asked, a little more venom than I thought I could muster after two drinks. I'm not a mean drunk. Usually, I'm sleepy.

"No, Master. You may sleep in the chair. I will stay here with you. May...I..." He dropped his head and shook it.

"What are you trying to say? Spit it out, Krycek."

"May I have a pillow, Master? My butt...I...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bother you, Master."

He didn't even look up. Well, I can't be completely horrible. They'll take him away from me and then I can't exact my revenge on him. "Here, sit while I nap," I said, tossing down a pillow from under me that I didn't need. I lay back and closed my eyes. Before I knew it, a warm hand was on my thigh, gently shaking me awake.

"Master? They're making preparations for dinner. I...I took the liberty of booking you a private table. I..."

I smirked down at him. "Mighty crafty of you. Get us alone so I won't humiliate you in front of others? Well, I'll just have you know, I want that red ass all for myself. When we get back tonight, I'm going to try out that flogger, I think. Yes, OK, let's go to dinner."

The look I got was close to fear, but that spark of anger, that rebellious heart of Krycek's showed through. I knew I'd see it before long. That gleam of hate he always carried came to the surface and that's exactly what I wanted. That's the face I wanted to spank off his skull.

I followed him to the table, watching that tight, sexy ass sway. He was walking a little stiffly, but the color was still a deep red, practically maroon. The table was set for one, but I raised my hand for a server. "Please bring my slave a place setting. I would like him to sit with me, thank you. Also, a plain wooden chair. No cushion on the seat, thank you."

Those prideful eyes lost their devious and rebellious luster when he looked at me. That well-spanked ass would have to make it through dinner on a hard bottomed seat. Our meal was brought, a broiled fish with a lovely pilaf side. The salads were topped with the reddest cherry tomatoes I'd ever seen. It was another excellent meal. Something light that wouldn't make me sleepy. Something that would sustain me tonight while I experimented with the other toys in the drawer. I even thought about calling the main resort and requesting more. Oh, tonight would be fun. I'd whip his ass good, then fuck it hard.

I watched as his hand shook as he tried to eat. The pain must have been something. Well, it's going to be something else when I take out that flogger and go to town on him. I took my time, thought about having a scotch before going back to the bungalow, but the bar was closed. That was weird. Why would it have been open for afternoon cocktails and not for evening drinks? Very strange. Well, I would have something delivered.

"Come along, Krycek. Time is a-wasting. We have plenty of things to do tonight. All of which I know you'll just love!" I looked at his face, his eyes were turned down, lashes fanned across his pale cheeks.

"Yes, Master," he said quietly.

He preceded me into the bungalow and went to the middle of the room. Standing there, waiting, he just looked at the floor. God, someone trained him so well.

"Let's see, how am I gonna place you now..." I mused, as I walked around the room. Then I noticed them. In the corners of the main room, from eye screws, hung satin ropes. "Oh, I see." I went to one and picked it up, checking out its construction and strength. It was a braided nylon, with a twist-wire, satin-covered cuff at the end. This meant I could twist it around his wrist, and he couldn't get out, but I could easily remove it. Ah, yes, that's what I wanted.

"Get over here, Krycek," I said. I roughly manhandled him into the cuffs and went to the wall-fastenings to tighten them, pulling his arms out to his sides. "That looks great on you, Krycek."

I walked around him, ducked under his arms, and thought that the g-string needed to go. I grabbed the waist band and yanked. The small garment snapped off in my hand. The sight of his ass jiggling, still significantly red, as I patted his hip gave me a flush of blood to my loins. Oh, this was going to be so sweet.

I changed my clothes, pulling on the leather pants I'd brought with me. I didn't wear any briefs underneath it. I slipped my feet into the soft, calfskin cowboy boots I almost never wore. I wanted to look the part. When I walked back in to face my nemesis, I was not prepared for the appreciative and lascivious look I received from my prisoner. His eyes slowly traveled up my body, with his soft cock following.

I wasn't prepared for Krycek to want me. I didn't think he'd get hard for me. Then I remembered in front of whom I was standing; one of the greatest liars I'd ever met in my life. If he could cheat his way through the academy, I was sure he was capable of making himself hard on command. I'd wipe that erection right off his body.

I pulled the flogger out, slamming the drawer closed. It brought a shudder through him. The handle of the flogger felt good, strong in my hands. It was a good size and weight, although I felt that the straps could have been a little heavier, but there was no fixing that until the next time I could look over toys.

"Now, I know you have a safe word, but I have the feeling, we're not going to be needing it tonight," I said, hoping he understood. I didn't want to hear him give up on me. No damn way was I going to stop just because he was in a little pain. When his pain matched mine, as I lay in an operating room, waiting to have my arms removed, or when I needed to have all the blood in my body rapidly filtered to remove the carbon blockages. When his pain matched mine, in my estimation, then I would allow his safe word.

Without warning, without preparation, I laid into him with the flogger. I knew better. I'd been trained better than not to smooth over the skin with my hands, warming it, giving a little massage to loosen the muscles. This was considered essential to sensual play, to preparing your partner. Well, this wasn't and he wasn't my partner. So, I didn't feel the need to be so kind to him.

A full swing of my arm across his back left a pink mark, and I smiled. He moved through the motion, but that tough little cookie didn't utter a sound. If I'd cared, I'd be impressed. I took another swing and connected a little lower on his back. He arched and exhaled. Not a grunt, not a hiss, nothing. If he wanted to play it that way, that was fine by me.

I reared back and began swinging, connecting with his back and shoulders over and over. I didn't go to his lower back, because injuring his kidneys wouldn't do any good. His back was getting nice and red, just the way I wanted it, so I started on the front, laying the leather straps into his pecks and abs. They started getting a nice color in them, a good red. And just as before, he moved with the blows, but no sounds. I was getting annoyed.

"You want to take your punishment in silence, fine. See if you can keep silent with the crop." I exchanged items and began swinging away. Ah, the crop made a nice splotch of red reappear in his ass, where the paddling color was waning. I swung with all my might, just short of tearing open his skin. I saw those tight cheeks tense with pain, but no sounds out of him. I swatted three, four, five times. No sound, not a peep. This wasn't very much fun, since I knew he was in pain.

"All right, Krycek. If that's the way you want to play it. That's the first part of the night. The second is yet to come."

I went to the bar, put the crop down, and went looking for a drink. I requested a stocked mini bar, but all I found were cans of cola, juice, and bottles of water. Well, fucking hell. I went into the cabinets, but all I could find were glasses, dishes, a microwave oven, silverware, but no booze.

"What kind of resort is this? No alcohol?"

"Master, there's no alcohol served after dinner. Especially not in the rooms."

"Why the hell not!" I shouted. I thought my statement was rhetorical, but Krycek seemed to want to answer me. Utterly ridiculous. Part of the fun of vacations is getting stinking drunk and not worrying about working with a hang over.

"Because...well, some of the visitors would get very...intoxicated and get carried away. The last man who drank beat his slave so severely, he was hospitalized for nearly six months. And it was his first scvene. The slave thought he would learn to be a perfect mate to a Master, then try and court the man he really wanted as his Master. It caused Mistress Lisa to amend some of her rules. Now, the alcohol is carefully handled."

I stopped a moment and thought about what he'd said. I walked closer to him and looked in his eyes. He looked at me, then dropped his gaze to the floor. I looked at his skin carefully and saw them. Scars, from whippings and beatings, a few from surgery. On his back and his arms, his chest, stomach, legs, hell, there were scars even on his buttocks. And I'd have seen then if I'd taken the time to look.

Fuck all. Without a word, I let his arms down and stepped back. "I didn't...I mean. That was you, wasn't it?"

He looked up at me and nodded gently.

"Well, I...did I hurt you?" I asked. Why the hell I was asking, I have no idea. I had questions for him.

"A little, but not anything I didn't deserve." That made me feel better. At least he admitted his mistakes.

"Well, considering how...the evening has gone, I'm kinda tired. How about we have a nice hot bath in that Jacuzzi and then we can...get to the rest of the night."

For my troubles, I got a little bit of a smile. "I would like that, Master."

"Good, go set it up. I'll undress." I watched his red ass as he walked into the bathroom. It swung and jiggled, making me think that he showed it off for me. And as amazed as I was, he kept that nice juicy hard on throughout the entire beating I gave him. Some kind of man, he was.

I walked into the bedroom and pulled off my cowboy boots, peeled off my leather pants. I walked into the bathroom and found him kneeling beside the tub. It was full, with a light scent of sandalwood wafting in the air. He just waited for me, not looking up, not speaking. He had this slave thing down.

I walked up the two steps and stepped down into the tub, noting the water was a little hot. I liked it that way, but how did he know that? I didn’t remember telling anyone. The water was so soothing, I just leaned my head on the pillow left there, and I relaxed, enjoyed the gentle heat that seeped into my old bones.

At first, I thought I was dreaming, but the hands on my scalp, gently massaging and soothing my head. I sighed and leaned back into the strong hands on my head. His fingers moved their way down and turned my shoulders and upper back into the water I was sitting in. He gave me a little push and I sat up, allowing his hands to slide down my back, easing me into a deep state of relaxation.

"When are you going to bathe me?" I asked.

"Whenever you like, Master," he answered me.

"Start now, please." I opened my eyes to watch him get into the tub, get the sponge and fill it with sandalwood shower gel. He soaped me up, my shoulders, arms, back, belly, then pulled me up, to get to my legs. I just looked down at him, watchful, waiting, enjoying the bath. But when he got to my cock and balls, he looked up, for permission.

"Yes, slave. And around back." Krycek seemed to enjoy washing my genitals and ass, making sure everything was completely clean. I couldn't stop the blood rush, and enjoyed his look of shock and surprise as my cock began to rise.

"OH...uh...Master..." was all he could choke out.

"Rinse me, then get the towel. We have a few more things to do tonight."

He did as I asked and smiled as he rubbed the towel over my body, my back, my chest and down my legs. Although he did an excellent job drying my body, his eyes never left my erection. This promised to be fun.

"Thank you, slave. Now, into the bedroom, get out the condoms and lube and lie on your stomach. Grab the spindles of the headboard and don't let go."

He looked up at me, eyes gone all doe-like, and gave me a bit of a smile, then turned and went to the bedroom. I smiled as I cleaned things up, and went into the bedroom without my towel. The lights were down low, not next to the bed, but the floor lamps across the room. It gave the room an ethereal glow. He was laying there, red ass in the air, tempting me to just plunge in.

I couldn't do that. I owed him more. "Keep looking at the wall behind the headboard."

"Yes, Master," he said.

I knelt on the bed, crawling between his spread legs. I just couldn't wait to get my hands on those cheeks. Oh, were they something. Still as round and firm as when he was a green rookie. I left one palm, then the other glide over them, feeling the tensing under my hands. I was gentle, not grabbing or squeezing, knowing I worked him over good earlier in the day. I just massaged gently, readying him for me.

"Now, I'm a big man. I know this. So, I'm going to be liberal with the lube, and I'm going to stretch you fully. I don't enjoy a rape or a dry fuck. I need you to trust that I will take care of you."

"Of course, Master. I trust you. I wouldn't be here if I didn't."

I knew that was true. No one had to be there if they didn't want to. If he really wanted to get out of the wrist cuffs, he could have. And if he walked out of the bungalow, I wouldn't have stopped him. I would have followed him, calling him every name in the book, but I wouldn't have stopped him.

I poured some of the lube onto my fingers and rolled it around, spreading and warming it. I parted those perfect cheeks and looked at his opening. A perfect dusky little hole that just begged for me. I circled it rubbed it, feeling him flutter under my fingertips. I let just the tip slide in, opening him up, getting him ready. Then he surprised me, opening to me, almost sucking my finger in. That was a little bit of heaven. My finger slowly went in, sliding in, and then came the sounds. What he refused to say when I was beating him came out when the second finger and the third went into him, opening him for me.

"Krycek, I can't take it, I'm going in. Is that enough for you?" I knelt up, grabbed a condom, wrapper already opened by him, and rolled it on.

"Yes, Master, I'm ready for you," he rasped.

I let that deep, gravelly voice run through me, pumping more blood into my cock. I lay down on him, hips pressing his ass, and that got me a hiss of pain. "Sorry, Alex," I said, and I meant it.

"S'ok, just...please, inside me," he begged. I couldn't resist and pushed into him, just letting the head slide in, and stayed there. The groan that came from him was long and loud, from deep inside. I didn't have to ask if it was pleasure, I knew it was. I kept going, down balls-deep and just stopped. The heat of his well-spanked ass almost singed my hips as I settled on him.

His ass hugged my cock, squeezed me tight and he was so hot, it didn't even feel like I had a condom on. I began moving in him, trying not to go too fast, but I couldn't help it. I just wanted to plow into him. I braced my hands on either side of his shoulders and began moving in earnest. The sounds began coming from him more. Groans, grunts, and a whine or two when I pressed into his prostate. I kissed the back of his neck and then felt it, he began to squeeze me.

"Are you close, Alex?" I asked, grabbing onto his forearms.

"Yes, Master, very close," he said. I was close too, almost ready to come. I reached up and took his hands from the spindles and grasped them. If we were going to come together, it was going to be holding hands. He held my hands, squeezing tight, and I smiled. Yes, this was amazing.

The first rumble from him shot through my cock and that was it for me. The floodgates were let open and I was done. Christ, it felt good to let loose into something other than my own hand. I was truly enjoying his ass. The last lover I'd had was some simpy girl at the movie premier, and that was because she wanted me to get her into a film.

We calmed slowly, then I eased off and out of him. I fell deeper in love with the resort, finding a wastebasket and baby wipes to clean up. I used a few on Krycek, to clean him up and settled beside him.

"May I ask a question?" he asked. I noticed he didn't call me 'Master'.

"Of course."

"Are you ever going to kiss me?"

"Pardon?"

"Your request was specifically for someone who liked to kiss. And you haven't kissed me yet. I want to kiss you."

"Walter," I corrected.

"Excuse me?" he asked. He turned to me, to look me in the eyes.

"My name is Walter, Alex. No more 'Master' and 'boy', OK? I...I got enough back. You took a hell of a beating. We're even."

"Not yet."

Oh, dear God, what the hell could be coming next?

"I want you to do something for me, when the crop bruises fade. I want you to spank me with a hair brush."

This was intriguing.

"Why?"

"You don't see the irony of a bald man using a hair brush to spank someone?"

I had to laugh at that. "OK, then. I think I can manage that. How about that kiss?"

He sat up and leaned over me, green eyes sparkling in the low light. The impish gleam was back, something that had tickled me when he was a rookie. His lush mouth lowered to mine and covered my lips, taking over my mouth. I let him drive the kiss, plunging his tongue into my mouth, and searching it. He tasted sweet, like candy and cake and ice cream. How the hell did he do that?

When he pulled back, he was smiling. "That was amazing. You have strong lips, Walter. I'm going to enjoy kissing you this week."

We spent that week almost permanently locked at the lips. We of course explored each other's bodies deeply, mouths and tongues finding each crevice and hole and exploring them. I waited until I saw Krycek's ass had gone back to pink before tipping him over my lap for his spanking. I bought a wooden hairbrush, boar bristles, and planned on using it in his hair. He was placid, but I could tell he was excited.

"You can yell if you want. Anything you like." He chuckled. If he wanted it, he got it. I pulled my arm back and let wail on him. He tensed and let a grunt go, but the first whack went by without much ado. As the spanks went on and on, he started wiggling, then shouting. And then I heard something I didn't think I would hear all weekend.

"Smirnoff! Smirnoff!" Immediately, the brush dropped from my hand. Both cheeks were cherry red and his cock was hanging hard between my legs. He was ready for me. I stood him before me and dove down, deep-throating his cock. He came almost as soon as I pulled back, bathing my tongue in his come. When he was finished, he dropped to his knees and finished me the same way.

Later that night, we lay in bed, cuddling and kissing. I knew I had to ask him, and this was the only time I would get to.

"Alex, the master you were preparing for, how did you know I was into this lifestyle?" I'd been playing for a number of years after Sharon died, learning the ways of a good Master. After supervising Mulder and Scully for so long, it was nice to have people actually listening to me.

"I knew everything about you. I've been watching you a long, long time. And...I...finagled you here."

This stumped me. "How did you do that?"

"Your travel agent is Lisa's sister." Holy shit, Mistress Lisa's sister...well, that explained the hard sell I got on the place.

"Well, now that you have me, what are we going to do with me?"

He looked away, thoughtful for a moment, then back at me. "I have money, and...my record is clean, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is. You want to rejoin society?"

"Yes, I think I would. I'll need a place to stay..."

"We'll leave on Saturday."

He smiled at me, pressing a kiss to my neck.

"But Master, what shall we do until then?" he asked, going innocent-eyed.

And until Saturday, I gave his ass the workout of his life!

The End


End file.
